Labels

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

I cannot resist holiday pictures...it is such a happy time, with all of the family here. Waking up to the full feeling of all of my children under the same roof is so warm and joyful. L-R: Duncan, Valentine, Charles (who did smile, only it was when someone else's eyes were closed), me, Caitlin, Gael, Thierry.

Here are a few photos of the day:

Gael made this sign to congratulate his uncle on obtaining a fantastic grant to redo his very cool pub, The London Underground, a historical building in Iowa.

Friday, November 10, 2017

The first thing that came to my mind today when I thought of my little blog, was that I keep getting interrupted by unimportant details that take on a huge significance, sometimes to me, sometimes to others around me. I allow them to get in the way of the rest of my life. But perhaps those disruptions are there for a purpose. Maybe I should see them as building blocks, places to pause and breathe, instead of simply rushing through them, trying to get on to the next item on my agenda, even if it IS the next project to knit.

I am still trying to figure out how my second car accident in six months could be seem as a guide post from the universe. Honestly. I was driving REALLY slowly both times.

Another very unpleasant experience took on all of the aspects of an opportunity for learning, once I had stopped being positively furious, a matter of only two weeks, give or take a few days. I have learned how to file a motion, electronically even, which may or may not come in handy in the future. If given the choice, I certainly hope it will not EVER be needed again. I suppose I learned that some things cannot be rushed, even though you were wishing they did not have to happen at all.

One child has a theatre festival out of town this weekend. As I drove home from dropping her off at 6:30am, I took the side streets through the old section of town. There were some stunning old homes in these parts, but most of them are in a sad state today. Families just like mine are raising children here, in the midst of violence and drug deals. Their plumbing probably sucks even more than mine. I bet the roofs all need replacing. I get to wake up every morning in a warm home, with a back yard where the kids can play in safety. My house has a working fireplace and there is a pile of wood to burn. Gratitude goes a long way toward joy and hope returning to one's perspective.

Our garage was the center for a "please join us, all!" Halloween fest again this year, dressing up is so much fun. And a whole lot of creative effort went into the costumes, from the children themselves. Above: Gaël, as a medieval plague doctor, or something. His mask was a work of devotion and love; papier mache, leather piecing, punching and stitching, by himself and our friend, Juniper, below:

Charles made his costume in the garage, his other dwelling place; he went as SportsMaster, I think, a comic book character:

Valentine, aka Little Red with Toto, visits with the Lion. She recycled her now completed red cape I made her.

Friends who came to play, Jon and Molly:

And, the grown-ups, dressed up, at the Witches' Ball: (Charles graciously loaned his costume to his Dad for the evening).

Thierry had to leave the country again, but this time it was a sorrow as well as a privilege. His grandmother passed away, at the age of 96. Goodness how we all loved her. She was incredible, and very much small scale, fiercely devoted to her family and taking care of them. The rest of the world could go hang; except for the church festival and others needing her knitted layettes. If you asked, she would knit. And yet, as her family grew and grew, she touched more and more lives every day. She did small things with great love, as seems to be the secret of all sages everywhere.

When my grandparents passed away during my time in France, we had not a penny to spare for me to return. It broke my heart not to be able to grieve with my family, but I had my husband who loved me and that made all the difference. It also meant that I had complete empathy with his need to be with his family. What we needed to do to make it happen was going to happen. Easy? No, but then, most things that are worth doing are not going to be easy.

I gazed at the sunrise from my car while waiting in the parking lot this morning. I breathed in the beauty and imagined millions of people all breathing in unison, praying for peace, at that moment, and you could tell; those colors were not easy to mix to make this picture just so. And it happens over and over, every single day. Courage and light to you.

Follow by Email

About Me

This is my chronicle of pursuing knowledge, balance, nature in our lives, a Waldorf education, good food, wisdom and laughter, with my five kids and French husband, here, along the banks of the Mississippi and in France.